The Billionaire's Secret Baby

The Billionaire's Secret Baby
CAROL DEVINE

SEDUCED…No woman on earth was immune to the devastating charms of billionaire bachelor Jack Tarkenton. Not even elegant beauty Meg Masterson. But after their passionate weekend tryst, Jack left her with something even more significant than a broken but wiser heart… .INTO MARRIAGE? Widowed Meg Masterson Betz had married for convenience once - to give her baby a name. She never thought she'd have to accept a second convenient proposal - this time from her daughter's real father.But Jack Tarkenton was determined to protect his child, on his terms. Although Meg consented to be his bride in name only, Jack would have his child's mother as his wife - in every sense of the word.

“I’m A Tarkenton, Meg. I Get Away With Everything.” (#u0623d347-0110-5b3e-b388-f4affc6dc9e8)Letter to Reader (#uf3adae28-0b06-5adc-ad58-684d515e66cf)Title Page (#u1af8df6b-619e-5e08-9917-7c383f2a3512)About the Author (#u368ef65c-4e33-57a4-b929-f6440ea81fa3)Chapter One (#u3cdf1817-1dbc-5388-9c50-1da89b562a29)Chapter Two (#ucba1a492-e395-5a70-9b7f-41a568bb6b48)Chapter Three (#udaa018c7-a97a-5f67-82d4-1014c3d944bb)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“I’m A Tarkenton, Meg. I Get Away With Everything.”

“You won’t get away with Katie. I’ll take her to the ends of the earth to keep her away from you, Jack.”

“I’m one of the privileged few who has the resources to follow you there. You won’t be able to hide her, not from me. I have too much money and too many connections. And when I do find her, I’ll use your refusal to acknowledge me as her father against you, not only in a court of law, but in the court of public opinion.”

“You want to ruin her life by making this public? Is that it?”

“I’m her father. I am not going to go away. I laid out my proposal. You can either turn this into a public custody battle or marry me and keep Katie’s paternity private. Unlike you, I believe both her parents have Katie’s best interests at heart.”

Dear Reader,

This May we invite you to delve into six delicious new titles from Silhouette Desire!

We begin with the brand-new title you’ve been eagerly awaiting from the incomparable Ann Major. Love Me True, our May MAN OF THE MONTH, is a riveting reunion romance offering the high drama and glamour that are Ann’s hallmarks.

The enjoyment continues in FORTUNE’S CHILDREN THE BRIDES with The Groom’s Revenge by Susan Crosby. A young working woman is swept off her feet by a wealthy CEO who’s married her with more than love on his mind—he wants revenge on the father who never claimed her, Stuart Fortune. A “must read” for all you fans of Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca!

Barbara McMahon’s moving story The Cowboy and the Virgin portrays the awakening—both sensual and emotional—of an innocent young woman who falls for a ranching Romeo. But can she turn the tables and corral him? Beverly Barton’s emotional miniseries 3 BABIES FOR 3 BROTHERS concludes with Having His Baby. Experience the birth of a father as well as a child when a rugged rancher is transformed by the discovery of his secret baby—and the influence of her pretty mom. Then, in her exotic SONS OF THE DESERT title, The Solitary Sheikh, Alexandra Sellers depicts a hard-hearted sheikh who finds happiness with his daughters’ aristocratic tutor. And The Billionaire’s Secret Baby by Carol Devine is a compelling marriage-of-convenience story.

Now more than ever, Silhouette Desire offers you the most passionate, powerful and provocative of sensual romances. Make yourself merry this May with all six Desire novels—and buy another set for your mom or a close friend for Mother’s Day!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to

Silhouette Reader Service

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The Billionaire’s Secret Baby

Carol Devine

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

About the Author

CAROL DEVINE lives in Colorado with her husband and three sons, including identical twins. When she’s not playing pickup games of basketball and hunting for lost Reeboks, she’s holed up in her office, dreaming of romantic heroes.

Her writing has won numerous awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s 1992 Golden Heart for Short Contemporary Series Romance. She has also served as president of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers.

One

Meg Masterson Betz couldn’t believe it. The father of her child had dared come to her husband’s funeral.

Jack Tarkenton edged the crowd of mourners, standing a little apart, larger than life, richer than rich, his signature mane of lion-colored hair stirring in the fall breeze. Powerfully built and conservatively dressed, he looked so much like his late, great father, Meg recognized him instantly.

She wasn’t the only one. Near the line of limousines parked along the cemetery road, the paparazzi and media types had mobilized and were madly taking pictures of the latest Tarkenton arrival.

Grateful for the black veil concealing her face, Meg made sure she had a firm grip on her daughter’s hand. Katie was behaving extremely well for a four-year-old, but the last thing she needed was a dozen cameras in her face.

Unfortunately, that was the price of being related to the famous Tarkenton family, even if only by marriage. Like the Kennedys, the Tarkentons attracted attention wherever they went. And Jack, as his late father’s only son, namesake and heir apparent, was the most famous Tarkenton of them all.

Double-breasted Armani boxed his shoulders with the clean and proper lines of the classiest in charcoal wool suits. A pristine shirt and maroon tie echoed this concession to convention.

Really, Meg thought. The briefest in beach attire was more his thing. Apparently, Jack wasn’t slumming today.

A pair of sunglasses cut the bronzed boldness of his well-known face in two. That disturbed her, to have him this close and not be able to see his eyes. The uncompromising set of his jaw, however, made her remember the aggressive self-assurance behind the sunglasses all too well.

Why was he here? He hadn’t known Allen. He certainly didn’t know her. Not really. The only connection she had to John B. Tarkenton Jr. was her brother’s marriage to his sister. That marriage and her child.

His child.

Meg flinched at the thought. Sometimes she hated her penchant for honesty. It cut like a knife to remember how stupid she had been. When Allen offered to marry her and raise the child as his own, holding back the truth was a discipline she had to constantly work at to maintain. Having a kind and decent husband like Allen helped, but Katie was the one who made her strong. That’s what came from having children.

You have a God-given chance to make things right, even when you started wrong.

Meg glanced at her daughter’s dark head. The coffee-brown curls matched her own. Katie’s brown eyes matched her father’s, however, and that was the one truth Meg would carry to her grave as Allen had carried it to his. Steadfast and loyal, he’d been Katie’s father in every way that mattered. Thanks to him, Jack Tarkenton would never know he had even fathered a child. He wasn’t going to get a chance to corrupt her little girl.

Shuddering, Meg turned her attention to the minister as he delivered the final prayer. By prearranged signal, he spread his arms wide and spoke to the entire assemblage. “And now the widow and daughter of Allen Betz would like a private moment. If you would kindly exit to the left, the burial site will be opened to the public in a few minutes’ time.”

Meg squeezed Katie’s hand. “You ready, sweetie? It’s time.”

Katie looked up with her big brown eyes and nodded, her long, dark curls glinting in the late-morning sun. Such a pretty child. Such a solemn child. Allen’s death had hit her hard.

Meg led the way past the mourners spilling out onto the lawn and halted at the casket. Kneeling, she placed her hand on the polished wood surface and bowed her head. Katie imitated every move.

The sight of the small hand on the polished wood brought a lump to Meg’s throat. All her instincts, maternal and otherwise, told her this was the right thing to do. Katie needed to grieve. But that was poor comfort to a mother’s desire to shield her child’s heart.

Meg thought of Allen, gentle Allen, and her sorrow twisted into a strange type of guilt. In the three days since the car accident that took his life, she had yet to shed a tear. All she knew was that she should have loved him better. She should have loved him more.

The click and whir of cameras—present only because of the Tarkentons—made her grief feel less than real, like it was put on for show. Meg put a shielding arm around Katie and pulled her close. Was nothing sacred anymore? The last thing either of them needed was to be the subject of prying eyes.

Upset with the photographers, with Jack, with herself, Meg helped Katie to her feet. Together they walked to the minister, and Meg thanked him for the service. Katie echoed the sentiment by silently offering to shake the elderly man’s hand.

“God bless and keep you, child,” he said.